


Amongst Lovely Things

by kijikun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-09
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijikun/pseuds/kijikun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Team Free Will search for Jesse, Lucifer comes across a curious thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things."_ \- Plato

 

 _Her back itches. Right between the shoulder blades. It's a constant. Since that day. Since he left them again. It's as consistent as the way her teacher watches her. As her mother thinks **he's** coming home. As the mailman's too wide smile, and the things that move behind his eyes. The itching is growing worse. Her mother takes her books. Takes the knife. And she hates him. Hates his abandonment. She hates him for taking him, and him for agreeing. _

_But she loves her mother._

 

The newborn grace that flares brightly for anyone with the ability to sense such things. Lucifer is drawn to it, curious and cautious. So he goes, the Horsemen and demons can be left to their own devices for a short time. And it's rather trying to deal with them. And an escape from the weight of Death's stares is quite welcome. You'd almost think he didn't like Lucifer.

It's been so long since he's felt such a _young_ grace, a grace he doesn't recognize. He expects to find a young angel -- one created after his fall. He expects to find an _angel_ , a brother or sister. Instead he finds...

The night hangs heavy, only made darker by the fire that rapidly consumes one of those cookies cutter little dwellings humans seem obsessed with having. Lucifer's lips curve, pulling at the deteriorating skin of his vessel's face. Maybe the fire will spread, maybe he'll help it along. Filling the night with screams.

He can still feel the bright flare of grace, but none of his kin can be found. There's just -- a human child. A girl. Staring at the fire. He draws closer and the fury that comes off the child is as potent as the grace. He moves closer still, and the child doesn't turn. Who amongst the Host would take a child as more than just a temporary vessel?

Grace bleeds off her as if she were a fledgling, all that extra grace meant to speed their growing, speed the unfurling of their wings. This isn't a vessel.

The bleeding grace weaves around him as if drawn by a magnet and he takes it in. The smaller tears and sores in Nick's (his) skin slowly knit back together.

This is something new. Oh, this could be useful.

The girl's head turns towards him.

"You're not a demon," she states. Her eyes are pale blue. They remind him of another set of eyes.

"No, I'm not," he agrees.

Her eyes narrow slightly and he can feel her awkwardly reaching out. Stumbling, inexperienced. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Who are you?" there's confusion there. He wonders if she even realizes the power she possesses. The muscles of her back shift.

Good. He can use this.

"I was once called the Morningstar," he tells her in a confidential tone. "But that was a very long time ago. Now it's only fair you tell me who you are, little one."

She turns towards him, her back to the fire. "Claire Novak."

"And what are you doing out so late at night, little Claire? Aren't you afraid of creatures like me? Shouldn't you be running away from the fire like a frightened rabbit?" He moves closer. Weaving danger with challenge, that he can sense will call to the girl's soul and that thread of curiosity.

Claire looks back towards the fire, lips in a firm line, no emotions on her face and only one in her heart. It's not sorrow. "Demons killed my mother. It's his fault. He left us, he abandoned us. Cared more about _them_ than his family. Than me. _I'm_ his daughter."

Lucifer rests a hand on her shoulder, drawing in more grace. It will take him time to fully heal this vessel, but it will last so much longer using this _new_ creature. Perhaps he can coax her to go with him, so much easier to have her willing. "And who is this 'him'? Hmm?"

"My father. He said yes and left. He's the reason the demons came. I _hate_ him," she hisses out. Something sparks in her eyes.

Lucifer tilts his head to the side and crouches in front of her. "It is a horrible thing when a father abandons his family, his children for... other things. I know how you feel, little one. I know your rage. How you feel wronged." He paused as if the thought suddenly occurs to him. "You could come with me. Away from... this." He gestures to the burning house. The sound of sirens in the distance, the humans standing in the street just watching.

They can't see him and Claire of course. He's made sure of that.

"I want to learn," she tells him, and he's almost _proud_ at this little creature setting conditions. "I want you to teach me."

He gives her an indulgent smile. "And what do you want to learn?"

Claire's eyes blaze as her grace does. Fierce and vengeful. "How to make him pay. How to make the world burn."

"That, Claire, I can most certainly teach you," he tells her and presses two fingers to her forehead.

***

Dean runs his fingers through Cas' hair, wrecking it more than it already was. Cas' head is resting on his chest and the sweat is still drying on their skin. This is Dean's favorite part -- well right after the earth shaking, mind shattering sex. But this - curled together and just _being_. Dean's never done much of his, and he likes it. He likes that Cas will be there in the morning.

God, he's starting to sound like Sammy. He wonders where Sam is and why the hell he trusts Gabriel taking him to _Australasia_ of all places. It's a long shot Jesse will even be there.

Cas slides his hand up Dean's arm and runs it possessively over the hand print there. "Should I be insulted that you're thinking about both of our brothers while you're in bed with me?" Dean can almost hear the smile.

He can't help but smile himself. "Only if I start thinking about Gabriel during sex."

"I would have to kill him then. On principal," Cas says, pressing a kiss to the skin over Dean's heart.

Dean laughs softly and drags Cas' hair the wrong way. "Good thing for him that's never going to happen."

Cas hums into his skin. "That is fortunate for my brother."

He's silent, fingers threading through his angel's hair, his other hand running up and down between Cas' shoulder blades. "I just don't like it. Even if they find him, he's just a kid and he hasn't a clue how to really handle his powers. I mean, _you_ wanted to kill him."

"Gabriel believes he can teach him. That he and Sam can teach the boy." Cas ignores Dean's comment. "He could be a powerful ally, and we need all we can get. You know this Dean."

Dean sighs and closes his eyes. "I don't want to drag a kid into this, even one with power. I don't trust Gabriel's sudden urge to play mentor to the anti-Christ."

He can almost _hear_ Cas roll his eyes or as close as Cas gets to it. "He isn't the anti-christ, Dean. I think Gabriel was... amused... by Jesse's pranks. Even unintentional as they were."

Dean sighs again, and opens his eyes to stare at the water stained ceiling. Just once he'd like to show Cas what a decent room looks like, what a decent bed feels like. He so wants to make up for taking Cas the first time on a dirty blanket in a abandoned house.

Cas raises his head and slides further up Dean's body to kiss him. "He'll be safer with us. There are too many powers that would use and abuse him or out right kill him."

"We have to protect him," Dean whispers, and he knows they do, and between Gabriel and Sam - they kid might just be okay.

Sigils are traced across his forehead, then his heart with such careful affection. "And teach him," Cas says against his lips. "He loves this world and we can teach him how to save it."

***

Lucifer sets them down on the grand porch of the large house he's taken over in Carthage. The home is opulent, built like a castle and bigger than any human family could ever need. It serves his need, and after all it's not as if the humans of the town have a use for it anymore. Very few of the demons are allowed into the house itself, but instead set up camp in the yard or in nearby houses. He mostly ignores their petty squabbles, over who is where. He cares little for them; they are tools.

Several of the near by demons in the yard look up at his arrival and look curiously at the child beside him. He glances down wondering what the girl will think faced with all these demons, but she's simply glaring at them her chin slightly raised. He raises an eyebrow at them and they quickly find else where to be. There aren't many demons about tonight, most are off doing what demons do and the more havoc the better. Some are on missions he sent them on. There is Pestilence to locate and raise. There are the Winchesters to torment - though they have orders not to kill - he needs Samuel alive - this vessel might heal but the boy is still his true one. Dean is needed if Michael is to be cast down for his betrayal. Castiel is to be brought to him if they can catch him, though Lucifer is mostly interested how many demons his fading little brother can deal with.

Though curiously, it seems little brother has regained a bit of his grace -- or else -- no Gabriel is dead, he must be with no trace of his grace to find on Earth or in Heaven, though Lucifer will gladly send the one that murdered him to hell.

"What are those?" Claire's voice breaks him from this thoughts. "They don't look like any dogs I've seen."

His mouth curves up in a smile. Ah, so she can see them. "Those are hell-hounds, little one. Would you like to meet my favorite?"

She tilts her head to the side regarding him then hounds. "Yes."

"Then we shall." He takes her hand -- it's a curious impulse. Perhaps left over from his vessel - Nick's mind.

A few of the hounds are restless, snarling and howling, but they quiet as Lucifer grows near. There are fewer than there had been, but his favorite survived. The hound in question, Cerberus the first hell-hound, comes forward towards him, as far as the lead will allow. "Don't be afraid they won't hurt you without my order."

"I'm not afraid of them," she says, but he can feel and see the small shiver in her grace and soul. She draws a little closer to him, her small fingers tightening around his, just as her grace reaches and wraps around a tendril of his. It's a curious sensation, but he smiles. It'll be easier if she depends on him, trusts him.

"Such a brave girl," Lucifer praises her. He crouches down and rubs Cerberus' head. "You can pet him if you like."

Claire reaches out a hand and Cerberus sniffs at her hand, then allows her to pet him. "What's his name?" she asks and scratches behind the hound's ears.

"Cerberus. He was the first hell-hound I created. Do you like him?" Lucifer asks. He still has her hand in his, and the physical contact allows more of the excess grace to pour into him.

She nods. "He's much cooler than any picture I've seen of Cerberus. Even without the three-heads. But shouldn't they be on fire or dripping acid from their mouths?"

Lucifer chuckles. "They can look like flaming beasts if I wish them to, but humans can't see them like they are now. Easier to attack and kill the unwary. And rest assured when they bite, acid enters the wounds. If the human or demon isn't dead from being torn apart the acid will make short work of them."

"Way better than Cerberus in Harry Potter," Claire declares.

He's about to ask about this Harry Potter when a female voice speaks behind them. "Did you bring the hell-hounds some fresh dinner, Lord Lucifer?" Meg's voice is arrogantly amused and blood thirsty. "She won't make much of a meal. They're be done with her in two or three bites."

Claire's grace balls up tightly and he dislikes that. This child is _his_ and Meg needs to remember her place. "Are you volunteering to give them something else to tear and devour?" he asks with a falsely mild voice. He rises to his feet, placing Claire behind him. Cerberus growls, already knowing that the girl belongs to his master and therefore is something to protect.

Meg's smile flatters. "No, my lord," she rushes out. "I was just curious about this... creature... you've brought among us." Her black eyes narrow at Claire.

Lucifer allows himself to smile, sharp and dangerous. "All you need to know _Megara_ is that she is mine and I will not take any harm to her lightly."

"Of course, do you want me to make that known?" Meg asks, clearly trying to worm back into his good graces. She's clever and ruthless, and that's why he likes her. He doesn't trust her but she can be... amusing. Both in bed and out.

He inclines his head. "Any that you think are too stupid to figure it for themselves -- and that you think are useful." Destroying a few would keep the rest in line and he rather enjoys it. He turns back to Claire dismissing the demon. "Let's find you a room, hm?" He already has one in mind, and the modification won't take much at all.

She slides her hand into his again. "Is there a room with a four poster bed?" Claire asks as they walk back towards the house. "I've always wanted one."

Lucifer smiles down and her and smooths a hand over her hair. "You can have anything you like," he promises.

And the Devil always keeps his word, after a fashion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons come in many forms.

It's a long stretch of deserted beach, sands too white and perfect to be real. The water just a little too blue, the waves a little _too_ perfect for surfing. Still Sam has to ask, "Are you sure this is the place?" It's taken them several days to find this beach. Jesse has hidden himself well from both demons and angels. Gabriel also had no desire to make himself noticeable to his brothers.

Gabriel shoots him a look and rolls his eyes. "No, its a perfect beach created by another ten year old cambion."

"Or you could be dicking around," Sam mutters. He also really wants to know where his shoes are. The sand does feel good and cool between his toes, but Gabriel needs to stop removing bits of his clothes when he snaps them places.

"Oh, Sammy, if I'm going to dick around with you it's going to be in a whole different way," Gabriel's voice is thick and sure. He leers up at Sam and slides his hand under Sam's shirt and up his back.

Sam leans back into Gabriel's hand for just a moment. "Then what do you call the Mystery Spot? Or the whole 'TV Land' thing?"

Gabriel's drawing sigils and runes over Sam's spine and it's hard not to shiver. "Having a bit of fun? Trying to impart a important lesson about brushing your teeth and wearing condoms?"

"Uh-huh," Sam says with a doubtful snort. Gabriel's fingers trail down lower into his jeans. "No sex on the beach."

"But I _like_ sex on the beach," Gabriel says sing-song.

Mind-blowing sex aside, Sam has not idea why he puts with Gabriel. "Focus, Gabriel. Let's find Jesse, then _maybe_ sex on the beach."

"Spoil-sport," Gabriel says with a long suffering sigh. "I don't know why I hang out with you. Oh wait, yes I do. You're hot in bed with an ass to die for."

"And that kind of talk is why Dean hates you," Sam points out as they head further down the beach.

Gabriel laughs. "No, he hates me for stealing his baby brother's virtue. But it's only fair considering he stole _my_ baby brother's virtue."

Sam makes a bitch-face at him. "Can we not talk about Dean's sex life?"

"You mean you don't want to know where he puts his ton -- " Sam cuts Gabriel off with a hand over his mouth.

"No, I don't," Sam tells him firmly. He spots a large beach house just up the beach coming into view like a mirage. "And I think he knows we're here."

Gabriel shakes his head and tries to speak around Sam's hand, then just licks his palm. Sam takes his hand away and wipes it on his jeans. Gabriel grins and bounces up on his toes like a excited and over-sugared five year old. "Nope, while you were freaking out about your brother getting freaky with mine, I was undoing some interesting bits of magic and wards hiding the place. I wonder if the kid even knows how he did it or just made it up as he went along."

"We need to be careful," Sam tells him, but is pretty sure Gabriel won't listen to a word of it. He likes saying _I told you so_. "He turned Castiel into a action figure."

"So, I heard. The kid's got style. Did Action Castiel have kung-fu grip?" Gabriel asks as they grow closer to the house. Or maybe the house is moving closer to them. Sam's pretty sure they haven't walked that far since the house came into view.

"Wouldn't know. Dean kept him pretty, uh, close." Sam is _sure_ the house is getting closer now. They're almost to the steps.

Gabriel laughs. "Wonder if he 'played' with him. And him giving me shit over molesting you when he molested my baby brother when he couldn't even protest!"

"Just watch it okay? The kid's powerful, and he's probably not going to like us showing up like this."

It's a pretty nice beach house, Sam has to admit that. It's large with lots of windows, woven grass roof with a tower in the center that looks as if it has climbing ropes and a slide going to the backside of the house. Sam suspects there's a pool.

"I can handle myself," Gabriel snorts, then grins up at the top of the stairs. "And it be rude to turn his guests into things. Wouldn't it Jesse?"

Sam blinks and sure enough the boy is standing there now. He's much like Sam remembers him -- though there are dark circles under his eyes now. Other than that he looks like a carefree boy on vacation, complete with bare feet and swim trunks.

"Hi, Sam," Jesse says, a edge of confusion and wariness to his tone.

"Hey, Jesse. Nice place," Sam keeps his tone easy. He doesn't just want spring anything on the boy. "Wanted to see how you were doing."

Jesse shrugs. "I'm alright. Learning to surf. Who's that and why are you here?"

Gabriel grins, slow and wide. "Pleasure before business, kiddo. You look like a kid that could use a chocolate chocolate chip milkshake," he raises his hand and snaps his fingers. In a blink they're by a pool. Sam was right there is a pool and the slide does go into it. Sam's got some sort of frozen drink in his hand and somehow now has on swim trunks. Gabriel's holding a strawberry daiquiri or something resembling one, and has acquired a pair of red swim trunks of his own. Jesse's looking rather stunned from where he's now on a float in the pool holding a large milk shake complete with whip cream and a cheery.

"Whoa. How did you do that so fast? How -- _Who_ are you?" He asked.

Sam frowns over a Gabriel who winks. Crap, this could go badly.

"I'm a Trickster, of sorts, but you can call me Gabriel. As for how I did that...well _that_ I can teach you," he pauses and smiles at Jesse. Sam can see the mischief in Gabriel's hazel eyes, but it's warm. Like he already likes the kid. "If you want of course. But like I said pleasure before business. Mind if we hang around for a few days?"

"If you want us to leave..." Sam starts because if Gabriel gets turned into a action figure or something else Sam will - well he doesn't have _clue_ what he'll do. He's fairly certain Jesse won't hurt him and will only do something to Gabriel if he feels threatened.

Jesse shrugs and takes a sip of his milkshake. "Nah, you guys can hang for a bit. It kinda gets lonely."

Sam suddenly realizes that Gabriel knew that.

***

Dawn has barely broken over the town of Carthage. It paints pink and orange on the horizon and most are still asleep. Even demons sleep, mostly out of sloth than any real need. Death never sleeps. War only closes his eyes to the world for a short time.

Claire is still as asleep, curled in the blankets clutching a stuffed monkey that once belonged to one of the many children slaughtered in the town. If she knows that she hasn't said. If she wonders where that child has gone, she hasn't asked. Claire is still young by anyone's standards.

Lucifer, once called the Morningstar, watches her for a moment from the connecting door between there rooms. He keeps her close. He made her room everything she could want and more. The happier she is the more her grace glows, the more the excess pours off of her and into him.

It's only that, he tells himself, as he crosses the room to her bed.

This will be the first day he'll be gone since he brought her here almost a week ago. He trusts the demons little but fear will keep them in check. You don't touch what is his and live.

Still something grips his chest, he'd blame it on this imperfect vessel, the fact that the body is human at all, if there wasn't a twisting in his grace as well. He refuses to name it. The girl, his fledg--

She's a tool nothing more.

Lucifer sits on the edge of the bed like he's done so many times in Sam's dreams. Now, though, he reaches out and smooths back blond hair. Her grace twines around his, burrows against it, like a child into the warmth of it's mother. Sleepy blue eyes blink open.

"Lucifer?" Claire's voice is quiet and she rubs her eyes.

He strokes her hair again. "I'll be gone today. Practice your sigils, stay near the house," he keeps his voice just as soft.

She shifts towards him, eyes closing sleepily for a moment. "'kay," she mumbles. "Can I play with Cerberus?"

"You may," he tells her. "If you need anything, tell Meg. She will get it for you."

Claire makes a noise that he can't interpret. "Don't like her."

"She's useful," Lucifer says, and rubs his hand over her back feeling the shift and movement at her shoulder blades. Her back has been bothering her. She doesn't complain but Lucifer knows. The movement under her skin tells all. There will be time yet, before they break through, otherwise he would not leave her. The breaching of wings is a delicate thing, even without these human vessels. And fledglings are most vulnerable when their wings are new and downy.

They also spill off so much grace. Heaven used to glow with it when the current flock of fledglings in the rookery gained their wings. Pain shoots across his grace at the thought of the rookery. Of fledglings with no knowledge of their parents.

Lucifer ruthlessly shoves the memories and the pain aside.

"Where are you going?" Claire asks, drowsy curiosity coloring her voice and her grace.

He makes a "hum" noise in his throat. "Wellington."

Claire makes a face up at him. "Where's that?"

"Ohio," he tells her, indulgently.

"Oh," she settles down again with a yawn.

A memory stirs and he's not sure if it's his own or Nick's. "Would you...like me to bring you something back?"

She nods, curling up closer to him. "Hm-mhm," her grace is so very content and warm.

"Then I shall. Now go back to sleep little one. I will see you this evening."

Her eyes close again. "Promise?"

Lucifer closes his own eyes for a moment. His fingers brush across her forehead. "I promise. Sleep now."

He stays until she falls back asleep, then tucks her blankets back around her. He runs his fingers over her hair one last time as he rises. Claire is young and she needs her rests. Nothing will harm her here. Nothing would dare to.

As he descends the stairs Meg is waiting for him. He smiles. She expects to go with him. Oh won't the little demon be disappointed. "Megera, I leave Claire in your care. See to it she has everything she wants or needs."

The demon's eyes widen then narrow, and the body she's in grits its teeth. "Yes, Lord Lucifer."

Lucifer smiles sharp and cruel. "Good."

***

Castiel is running his fingers through Dean's hair as the early morning sun starts to leak through the inefficient curtains. How will he tell Dean this? What will Dean think of him?

He had promised, promised Jimmy so faithfully. He's failed in this as he has in so many things. He prays that both his Father and Jimmy will forgive him.

Dean stirs slightly and he mumbles something that translate into, "Cas, why you awake?"

"Go back to sleep, Dean," Castiel whispers, nuzzling the top of Dean's head. He so wishes to put this off a little longer.

Of course, he should have remembered that Dean is disobedient and stubborn. It is something he normal loves about the man.

Dean tightens his arm around Castiel's waist. "Tell me what's wrong," he insists sleepily.

Castiel thinks about just putting Dean to sleep, but he cannot afford to waste his grace that way. Dean would also be furious with him come morning. "I went to check on Jimmy's family while you slept."

"Okay?" Dean asks in confusion. He props himself up slightly to look at Castiel who finds it hard to meet Dean's eyes.

For a long stretch of time, Castiel cannot find the words in English to explain. There's a twisting feeling in his chest, the same feeling as when he couldn't heal Bobby, when he couldn't save Jo and Ellen, only it's worse.

"Cas?" Dean sounds worried now and he slides his hand over the back of Castiel's neck. "Hey, talk to me. Your kinda freaking me out here."

"The Novak home was burned almost to the ground," Castiel tells him. It smelled like sulfur, and a lingering odor of smoke as if something was still burning.

Dean inhales sharply. "Are Amelia and Claire alright?" He knows they aren't, Castiel can hear it in Dean's voice. But he still asks, even after everything Dean's life as shown him, he still hopes.

Castiel finds himself searching for Dean's hand and clasping it tightly in his. It's a urge he doesn't understand but it eases something. "Amelia is dead."

"From the fire?" Dean asks carefully. Of course, Dean's mother and her horrible death by fire, by demon, Castiel should have kept this to himself. He should have not given Dean the details.

Still, it would be easier if he could tell Dean yes. "I believe, I sensed..." He frowns slightly, trying to remember the sensation as he stood at the spot Amelia died. "She was already dead when the fire began."

"Shit."

Castiel nods, he agrees with the sentiment if not the expression. "The three other bodies found with her did die in the fire."

Dean squeezes Castiel's fingers. "Think it was demons?"

"There was the very strong smell of sulfur," Castiel tells him. He shifts his shoulders wishing he could wrap his wings around himself.

"Shit," Dean says again. "We should get over there and see what else we can find out."

Castiel closes his eyes, squeezes them tightly. Dean will never forgive him. "The fire was five days ago."

Dean doesn't say a word. Castiel heart crashes to the ground along with his grace.

"I know I have failed in this duty. I promised Jimmy this one thing and I...I wasn't not there to protect them. I had not checked on them in weeks," he admits. He moves to rise from the bed and go - he isn't sure where. He just wishes to _flee_.

The arm around his waist refuses to let go and Castiel doesn't want to harm Dean. "You didn't _fail_ , Cas. You could have been playing guardian angel every damn night and this still could have happened." Dean pulls Castiel's head down and kisses him. "I should have checked up on them more, too. Hell, I should have checked up on so many people in my life."

Castiel rests his forehead against Dean's. He can only hope Jimmy is as forgiving as Dean.

They shift on the bed, curling around each other in the sheets. Dean traces meaningless things into Castiel's back, runs his fingers over the places where Castiel's wings are joined. His back twitches and his shoulders roll under the want to let his wings come out and spread. Instead he fights the urge and marks Dean's back with sigils and runes, writes his love into Dean's skin.

He thinks Dean is almost asleep when Dean nuzzles his neck. "You didn't say about Claire."

No he hadn't, had he?

"There was no sign of her," Castiel says softly, as if speaking it too loudly would break something. "Except for..."

"C'mon Cas, tell me," Dean prods gently.

"There were the faint after marks of two sets of graces in the field near the home," there's a tremor in his voice. Castiel fears saying this out loud will make his suspicions true. "One was Lucifer's."

Dean's body tenses and he breathes shakily against Castiel's throat. "The other? Shit, tell me it wasn't Raphael, last thing we need is those two dicks joining forces."

"It wasn't the grace of any of my elder brothers," Castiel assures Dean. How is he going to make Dean understand this? "When a fledgling is newly made their grace is brighter, stronger than it will be when they are fully grown. This serves to help them mature. Growing wings takes a vast amount of energy. They have so much grace that it sheds, for a lack of a better term, off them. It is absorbed by those assigned to their flock."

Castiel can feel Dean's frown against his skin. "Okay, and what does that have to do with the other grace and Claire?"

"The other grace signature was young, new. Untidy edges and messy trails instead of a clean impression," Castiel explains. He lets his fingers stray up and over to the mark he left on Dean's skin, the feel of his grace under Dean's skin, in Dean's soul. It calms him. "I recognized it, in part. The soul was still clear in the grace and I knew that soul deeply. She had been my vessel for a short time and I could never mistake such a clear bright soul."

Dean's fingers pause. "Claire? Why would Claire have _grace_? The kid was no angel - or was she like Anna?"

"No, she was not like Anna." Castiel at least knows that much. He would have sensed that much. But he fears...

Dean sighs and kisses Castiel's collar bone as if reassuring him that Dean wasn't mad or anything of the sort. "How then?"

Castiel closes his eyes. Closes his eyes and lies to his mate. "I don't know."

***

The moon sits high in the sky when Gabriel finds Jesse up on the roof. The boy had his hands behind his neck staring up at the bright stars. They've been there two real days and two weeks inside the illusion. Gabriel had manipulated the rather rudimentary illusion and construct the kid had made so that they'd have the time they needed. Time that, in the real world, they didn't have. Sammy wasn't pleased but he knew it was necessary and it was hard for Gabriel to feel guilty when he watched Sam and Jesse playing in the pool with wide smiles and honest laughter.

"You know there's an angel tied by his ankle up there," Gabriel says conversationally as he joins the kid. He stretches out next to him and leans back on his arms. "He was a bit of a douche though. Mikey whined about having to do it though."

Jesse turns his head and blinks several time. "You can't tie a angel to a star."

Gabriel snorts. "You can too. He's tied to Orion. He's probably bored as all get out. I know I would be." He snaps his fingers and materialises a Snickers bar. "Want one?"

"Can you make a milky way?" Jesse asks.

The kid's curious, that's good. Gabriel can use that. Plus he already likes this kid. Jesse has imagination and a bit of a mischievous streak, but for the most part he reminds Gabriel of Sam. He wants to be more than his blood makes him. He doesn't believe he doesn't have a choice. "Can't you make your own?"

Jesse frowns up at the stars. "Haven't worked out brands yet. I can make candy, but its not the same, you know?"

"You have to get it just right," Gabriel agrees. "Otherwise its like eating a cheap knock off. Took me a bit to get M&Ms right. Always liked the green ones," he snaps his fingers and tosses Jesse the Milky Way bar.

"Thanks." And will wonders never cease the kid's got some manners buried in there. He'd expected a few more sharp edges, but Jesse is lonely and a bit scared. He misses his parents. Gabriel has the strong urge to wrap the kid up in his wings. He's had the urge since the second day.

"No problem, kiddo. Always happy to help a fellow candy enthusiast," Gabriel says with a grin. "Now Sammy, he's got a weakness for Cadburys Creme Eggs but he hates to admit it. If I left him to his own devices he'd be eating rabbit food all the time." Gabriel makes a face.

Jesse laughs. "You mean he _likes_ eating his vegetables?"

"Scary, huh?"

Jesse dissolves into giggles and flops back against the roof. There's a sleeping bag nailed up there, under which Jesse is laying.

They eat their candy bars, including the two more for each of them Gabriel snapped up. Gabriel tells Jesse about Anansi the Spider stealing stories. He recounts the time he and Raven pulled a practically brilliant trick on Seagull. Gabriel even tells the kid about a few of the pranks he's played on Dean and Sam - the harmless ones - there were somethings better left in the past. Driving Sam insane in the name of teaching him a lesson being one of them.

Jesse listens in rapt attention. He asks questions sometimes and just laughs others. Gabriel winds down story time with one of Mouse Woman's many instances of helping out some young woman determined to do things her own way. He can sense the kid is growing sleepy. Which is good because Gabriel when he took a peak in Jesse head gleaned that the kid hadn't slept since he and Sam showed up.

If Jesse falls asleep then it means this could work. He's got to trust Gabriel and Sam. He needs to know that he'll be protected.

Gabriel will protect this cambion like he should have protected his own young. Sam...Sam's heart had opened wide for the boy from the moment he met him.

"Can you teach me?" Jesse asks on the tail end of a yawn. He's half on his side know watching Gabriel with drooping eyes.

"Teach you what, kiddo?"

Jesse yawns again, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before fluttering open. "Stuff. Stuff like you do."

Gabriel reaches out and strokes at hand over Jesse's hair. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Sam too."

"Yeah, Sam too," Gabriel promises. "We'll take care of you."

Jesse's eyes fall shut again. "Kay," he mumbles.

After Gabriel's sure Jesse is asleep he scoops the boy up and tucks him into bed.

His wings are still out as he watches the even rise and fall of the boy's chest, when Sam presses against his back. They stand like that for a long stretch of time and Gabriel desperately tries not to think of the past.

***

Lucifer returns later then he would have liked. His errand hadn't been as...fruitful as he would have liked. In a way he's grateful to be back to the house. His thoughts kept returning to Claire. Lucifer didn't worry, not about some useful little tool, but she was at a very vulnerable stage.

She would be pleased with her present, he decides as he enters the house. The few demons milling around quickly remove themselves from his sight. There's some soft murmuring but he ignores it. The hour is late and Claire will soon be in bed if she is not already. He wants her to have her present before she sleeps. After all he did promise her.

He will never lie to her.

Twin daggers he'd found in some human store. One iron the other silver. They were quite beautiful even more so after he'd marked them enchonian and runes. Lucifer is looking forward to teaching her how to use them. There are a few demons that will make excellent target practice for the child.

The hall is empty and there is no sign of Megera. He frowns at this. She should be in the house watching over Claire. Lucifer follows the pulse of Claire's young grace through the darkened kitchen and living room.

He hears Death's voice before he hears Claire and he pauses in the doorway of the study.

"But if I move my knight there your queen will kill him," Claire protests, looking down at the chess board. Her back is too him and she shifts her shoulders in a way that says her wings will soon breach.

Death chuckles, warm and indulgent. "You didn't seem to mind sacrificing your pawns, Claire," he picks up one of the white pawns and turns it in his fingers.

Claire tilts her head to the side, and Lucifer lips curve upwards. So much like- He pushes away the thought before it finishes. "There were more of them. I only have two knights."

"It is easier to send many to their deaths in battle than one or two, hm?" Death points out. "Think about that your move should be after moving your knight. What will it be?"

Lucifer is curious as to how this little chess lesson started. Death showed no interest in Claire before.

She seems to consider this for a brief moment. "My king's side bishop."

"Very good move," Lucifer chuckles and steps further into the room.

Claire turns half way around in her chair and grins widely. "Lucifer, you're back!" It's the most excited, happy, as he has seen. Her grace had glowed with contentment when he taught her or took her around the camp but now her grace is spilling everywhere, a happy bright thing.

He chuckles crossing the room. Her grace reaches and curls around his, overflowing with extra energy. Lucifer likes her happy. When she's happy her grace is stronger and charges his own so much quicker.

Death looks at him in an almost amused way. As if he was some curiosity. Lucifer bristles and moves behind Claire so he can stroke her hair.

"Your fledgling is a very fast learner and has excellent taste in food," Death tells him.

"We had pizza for dinner. There's still some if you want it," Claire tells him one the end of a yawn.

Lucifer absently traces a rune across her forehead. "I do not require food, little one. Now I believe it is time for you to rest."

For a moment she looks like she's going to argue with him and he sends a firm nudge with his grace. "I'm not sleepy," she still protests as she gets to her feet.

"Yes, I can see that," Lucifer agrees indulgently. "Go. I will be up momentarily. If you wish for your gift tonight I expect to see you in bed."

Claire nods and yawns again. "Goodnight, Death."

"Sleep peacefully, Claire."

Lucifer watches as Claire walks sleepily out of the room and tracks her grace as she climbs the stairs.

"Your little fledgling is quite something," Death chuckles folding his hands over the chess board. "Would you like to know what she's done while you've been gone?"

Lucifer turns his head sharply towards Death.

Death leans back in his chair. "It seems three of those demons of yours decided she didn't belong here. Dear little Meg was no where to be found."

Rage roars through Lucifer. Those demons will regret even _looking_ at what is _his_. "Where are these demons?" he demands.

"Oh, little Claire took care of them," Death's smile is sharp, deadly and harmless all at once. Lucifer dislikes that Death unnerves him so much. "I don't think any demon here will dare even think about harming her."

Death doesn't say why or how but Lucifer will get the facts out of one of the demons. Or Megera. He had left Claire in her charge.

"I would be wary of your favorite. I believe she would fit very well in a fairy tale with an evil step-mother," Death's tone is light, amused. "I am fond of the child, Lucifer. Be wary of what you plan for her."

Lucifer snarls twisting Nick's face. "What I plan for the little one is my business alone, Death. Do not forget who holds your leash."

Death tips his head to the side. "You should worry more about the leash slipping."

"I will not be mocked," Lucifer snaps and turns to leave the room. He is suddenly anxious to examine Claire's grace more carefully for any injuries. He...he needs her, after all. She is healing this imperfect vessel, if not for that he would be rid of her.

Lucifer careful does not study his own words for the truth.

"Have you looked at her soul, Samael?" Death asks before he passes through the thresh hold.

Something in Death's voice causes Lucifer to pause. "I have no need."

Death chuckles, a soft amused sound like adult watching a child put something together improperly. "Or you're afraid."

Lucifer does not answer. He fears no thing or creature of Heaven, Earth, or Hell.

***

Claire curls into a ball, kicking away the sheets. The itching between her shoulder blades had grown worse that day, almost aching. But it never hurt like this. Like something under her skin was trying to push out. To tear through her skin and be free. She curls up tighter, and whimpers. Her face is wet, and she presses it into the sheets. She doesn't want the demons to hear her. Especially not Meg. Or the Horsemen. She likes War, who called her fiery, and Death who had been so nice to her since she'd been there.

But it hurts so badly. For a horrible, painful moment she wants her daddy. She wants him to be there so badly that she forgets she hates him. That she forgets that all this is _his_ fault. A sob escapes her lips.

"Easy little one," a hand runs down her back. "I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon. It always hurts when they first break free."

Claire sniffles and lets herself curl around Lucifer who strokes her hair and mummers soft words of comfort. "Make it stop," she sobs. "It hurts."

Lucifer gathers her close and she's encircled in soft feathers. "I cannot make it stop," he whispers. He rubs his hand between her shoulder blades.

She clings to him as the pain grows, the pressure grows worse and something on her back tears. Claire makes a sound that doesn't even sound human to her own ears but she doesn't care. Because it hurts. It's all she can think about. Something slick and wet is running down her back.

"Let it happen, my little one," she's cradled in arms and feathers. Something is being pulled free and she makes the sound again.

The searing pain of skin tearing comes again and she is dimly aware of the sound of glass shattering as she wails.

"Almost done. You are doing so well. My brave girl," is whispered into her hair.

He's pulling something out from her back and the pressure disappears. She's left with a shuddering ache, edged in jagged pain. Feathers press close and the pain slowly leeches away.

There's a tugging weight on her back and the skin feels sticky. Claire trembles and Lucifer pushes back sweaty hair from her forehead. "Look at your wings, Claire."

She takes in a shaky breath. "Wings?"

"Yes," he tells her. He doesn't lie to her, not like her father, not like her mother. Not like Castiel. Lucifer's wings brush against her's in a way that makes her feel safe and loved.

Claire looks over her shoulder and glimpses a bit of wing coming from her own back. It looks wet and red - _bloody_ , she thinks. "Can I fly?"

Lucifer laughs and brushes his feathers across hers again. "When you have your flight feathers. How do they feel?"

"Heavy, weird," Claire says. She just wants to curl up again and sleep now that the pains gone. She tries to shift the muscles. "Gross."

She's gathered up in his arms as he stands like she was a little kid. She wants to wrinkle her nose and complain because she _isn't_ a little kid. Maybe she will later.

"Let's wash and groom your wings, little one. Then you may sleep," Lucifer assures her. "Don't you wish to see what your wings look like?"

Claire looks at the wings stretching out from Lucifer's back. They're look like grandma's cat after she rolled around in the fire place. There are places that look like the burnt end of a piece of paper.

She thinks they look cool. Better than any white fluffy thing books always showed. Claire likes these wings. "I want red ones."

Lucifer chuckles and nuzzles her hair as he carries her to the large master bathroom. "Hmm, those are rare, but so are you."


	3. New Wings

Lucifer has her sit on the edge of the tub and helps pull off her blood soaked t-shirt. He's well aware that this would be seen as an importunity by many humans. Ashamed of their own bodies, ashamed of the form his Father had given them.

"Can you spread them, Claire?" he asks gently.

The girl frowns slightly and her brow wrinkles as she tries. After a moment her wings twitch, then slowly extend. "It feels weird."

Lucifer smiles indulgently. "You will become used to them." He turns the water on, waiting for it to reach the right place between cold and hot.

Claire flexes her wings again. "They feel all stiff," she complains.

"That would be the blood, Claire," Lucifer reminds her. He wets a wash cloth and starts carefully cleaning the feather of her right wing. The first grooming could be painful if not done correctly. He doesn't wish her to have more pain from her new wings than necessary. It might impede her in becoming accustomed to her wings.

"Oh," Claire says, with a yawn. "Why'd it hurt? Does it hurt angels when they get their wings?"

Lucifer rinses the wash cloth and continues cleaning her wings. The feathers are downy and soft as the blood is washed away. A few flight feathers have already grown in but that is to be expected considering her wings have come late -- if she had been a normal fledgling.

 _But she isn't one,_ he reminds himself with a slight frown.

She's his, though. Whatever she is. This little creature is his.

"It hurts fledglings. The wings have to break through skin and grace. Yours were simply larger since you've come into your wings later. It's to be expected, though, considering your human background," Lucifer assures her. He frowns at the feathers of her right wing, most of them are free from blood but they are -- red. Some of her feathers are red.

Claire makes a humming noise in the back of her throat. "What's wrong?" Her grace twists anxiously.

He runs the wash cloth down the center of her back to calm her grace. "Nothing is amiss. But I believe your wish for red wings has come true."

"Really?" Her voice and grace bubble with excitement. She cranes her head around, her wings spreading more as she tries to get a glimpse.

He puts a hand on her right wing to keep her from stretching too far so soon. "You'll see them soon enough. Let me finishing cleaning your feathers. If we wait they'll start to itch and come out."

"They'd grow back though, right?" she asks, blue eyes blinking at him.

Lucifer chuckles and smooths her hair down with his free hand. "Of course. They'd itch for weeks, though. It's -- annoying."

Claire giggles sleepily as he continues to clean. "Have you lost your feathers before?"

He pauses. He has. Lost them in blood clumps. "I have," he answers after a moment. "It wasn't pleasant and I wouldn't wish it for you."

She hums again and yawns loudly. "Oh." She tilts her head slightly towards his voice. "Did it happen when you --"

"When I what, Claire?" He's a bit proud she filled in the blanks herself. His clever girl.

Her feather quiver slighty as does her grace, but her voice is steady. "When you Fell. Did you loose your feathers then?"

For a moment he considers lying. She's too young to fully understand the true meaning behind the Fall. What it cost. "Yes. It was quite painful. It took years to grow them all back."

"Oh," she says softly. Then, "Can I see them again? You had them out earlier."

Lucifer sighs, but gives in without any real thought. One wing curls about her instinctively. "They used to be glorious."

She touches the feathers, with fingers and grace, and he feels a welcoming warmth he hasn't in so long. "I like them. They look cooler than white fluffy wings."

He laughs at that, forgetting his own shame at the state of his wings. "Only cupids have white fluffy wings." He starts to work on her left wing.

"There really are cupids?" Claire asks, her wings flicking in excitement.

He chuckles again, curling his grace around her. No lessons for her tomorrow, he decides. She'll be exhausted in the morning. "No one likes them much. They are very -- tactile."

Claire seems to think on this. "They kiss everyone or something?"

"Hugs, actaully. Even Michael would lose his patience with them," Lucifer confides. "But he did not want to hurt any of their feelings. You could see it in his grace though and at how the skin around his eyes crinkled."

Lucifer cleans off the skin around her wings. She'll need a good shower in the morning and he'll need to teach her how to groom herself. He'll help her, of course, but she'll need to learn.

"Do you miss him?" Claire asks yawning again.

 _Yes_. "I think we're done with your wings," he tells her.

She tries looking over her shoulder again, and smiles. "Wow, they look awesome." She nestles again him, her grace warm and sleepy.

Lucifer looks over her fully clean wings in the half light. Just as he thought, Claire's wings are red. Dark blood red feathers turning fire orange near the end of her wings. Beautiful wings. So like --

Lucifer straightens the primaries as Claire rests half asleep against his chest. Happiness radiates off her grace.

He looks now. Really looks as Death...suggested...at her young soul and grace.

And Lucifer sees...

He sees.

"Will you teach me to fly?" Claire mumbles sleepily.

Lucifer soothes down her feathers and hair. "When you are ready."

"Tomorrow?"

He kisses the top of her head and picks her up. "No. But I have a spell for you to try." A variant of a familiar summoning. "And I will teach you some moves with your new daggers. I'm sure there are some demons you'd like to kill."

She nods against his shoulder as he carries her into his bedroom. Lucifer tucks her in under the soft blankets of the large bed, making sure her wings are folded against her back. When he gets into the bed on the other side, she snuggles into him and he covers her with a wing.

"Can I show Death my wings?"

"Sleep, little one. You can show him in the morning."

Lucifer holds her close through the night. Nothing will take her. The will of Heaven has no hold here.

He will not lose his nestling again. He'll keep her safe this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse almost changes his mind.

He likes the house on the beach he's made from himself. He likes that he can have anything he wants - even if it doesn't taste as good or as real as the things Gabriel can make.

It just that it's _his_. And he thought if he left it would be to go back to his mom and dad. He misses them.

"Ready, kiddo?" Gabriel asks him as they step just beyond Jesse's construct.

Sam's squeezes his shoulder briefly. "Jesse, we aren't going to force you. It's okay if you change your mind."

Jesse shakes his head. "No, I wanna come with you guys. Gabriel's going to teach me stuff."

"Gabriel's good at teaching," Sam says in a tone Jesse doesn't understand. Grown ups.

He looks up at the house he created and searches for the building block that will bring the rest down. He wrinkles his forehead. How'd he put this thing together? Jesse doesn't really remember. He just did it. Never thought about having to make something this big go away.

"What was the first thing you created?" Gabriel asks crouching down beside Jesse.

Jesse frowns trying to remember. Then...

"The tower," he says, pointing up at it. He'd been thinking about the Swiss Family Robinson and how much fun ropes and ladders could be for getting in and out of where he'd sleep.

Gabriel's shoulder nudges his. "Then take that apart first. The rest will follow it."

Jesse tries and sure enough the tower, the house and everything else dissovels into nothing. A surf board remains where the tower stood. He frowns at it.

"A place for you to start it over again if you want," Gabriel tells him. "I'll teach you how to mark things like that. It makes it easier to recreate things if they're stored up in a physical object."

That's ... "Awesome."

Sam snorts. "I wondered how you did that."

"Hey!" Gabriel protests getting to his feet. "I have phenomenal cosmic powers."

Jesse laughs. "So does the Genie in Aladdin," he points out.

Gabriel gives both Jesse and Sam a mock affronted look. "I'm wounded. Only a few minutes in and you're both ganging up on me."

"You deserve it," Sam tells him playfully.

Jesse grins. It's like his mom and dad. The teasing and the jokes. He always liked that, made him know his parents really liked each other and not just because they were married.

"I'd leave you both here, but Jesse's smart enough that you'd be right behind me," Gabriel says with long suffering sigh.

Sam rolls his eyes. "You ready to go, Jesse?"

"Yeah." He really is. Sam is cool and Gabriel's going to teach him stuff. Maybe he'll kinda get to be a superhero too.

Gabriel grins wide and rocks up on his toes. "Okay then kids, let's go." He snaps his fingers.

In a blink of an eye there standing in the snow outside a motel. Jesse opens his mouth to complain about being cold when he realizes he's not.

"I'll teach you about the cool trick of standing in snow in swim shorts another time," Gabriel promises, tugging the wool hat over Jesse's eyes.

Sam laughs. "Next you'll tell him you don't feel the cold."

"I don't!" Gabriel protests then yelps as Sam puts cold fingers on his neck.

"Hey, you cheated. No hot chocolate for you," Gabriel whines.

Jesse has to laugh. "Can I have some?"

Gabriel grins wide again and lead the way to one of the motel rooms. "Sure you can kiddo. That'll be your first lesson. How to make it taste just right."

Jesse hesitates, because he somehow knows the angel's inside. He's scared it'll be mad at him. It was before. Sam's hand slides into his.

"It'll be okay. Gabriel knows his chocolate," Sam assures him. "And we're not going to let anything hurt you."

Jesse doesn't not clutch Sam's hand as they walk through the door. He doesn't. He's not a baby. He just... its slippery and he doesn't want to fall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire meets a new friend.

Claire _loves_ her wings. Her back is still a bit sore, even after two days in bed, and she still is slightly off balance but she loves her wings.

"Stop preening," Meg hisses at Claire as she follows Claire about the yard.

She puts her chin up. She's not going to let Meg scare her today. Lucifer's home after all, and Meg's too much of a coward to go against an order openly. That's what War told her at least. "War says I could break a man's neck with them," Claire says proudly, though it comes out like a taunt. "And Lucifer says they're wonderful."

Claire enjoys the way Meg's eyes go glassy black. She thinks it should scare her. It did before - what seemed like lifetimes ago - when dad left them again. She'd been so scared then, she remembers that now. She remembers the searing fire of that angel in her skin and how it left her a stranger in that skin when he was gone.

She frowns. Stupid Meg making her remember. Her wings flex slightly against her back. She hates Meg so much. Not as much as she hates Castiel but...

Claire takes off across the yard towards where the Hellhounds are. Cerberus is probably lonely with just those _lesser_ Hellhounds for company. She'll take him to visit Lucifer. That will make both of them happy.

Meg makes an angry noise and Claire almost trips over her wings but she puts the distance she wants between her and the demon. Stupid demon.

Cerberus barks happily when he sees her, but there's someone else with the Hellhounds and Claire stops short. It _looks_ like a child around her age.

"Hello," she says cautiously.

The boy turns around and smiles, mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The boys eyes are red on black. "Hi."

Claire moves forward determined that she will not show fear. It wouldn't do for Lucifer's student to be _scared_ of sharp teeth and strange eyes. Cerberus makes a series of noises that means he's happy to see her and butts his head against her leg until she pets him. "I'm Claire."

"I know."

She bristles, her feathers puffing up slightly. "Who are you then?"

He says something that she's sure should hurt her ears.

"That's a little hard to pronounce," she points out. "And long."

The boy grins again. "Call me Cthu," he tells her.

Claire scratches Cerberus ears. One of the other Hellhounds whines. "I haven't seen you here before."

Cthu strokes the head of the jealous hound. "My family arrived today. The Head of my Family is meeting with your father."

She blinks for a moment. Father? Then she realizes he means Lucifer. And he is now, isn't he? "Are you joining in the war?"

The boy looks at Claire from the corner of his eyes. "Maybe."

"Better to join than be destroyed," Claire says, remembering what Death told her. "He doesn't like fence riders."

She gets a smile in response. "We would see humans remember their place and us."

Claire laughs at the way he says human. "Have you even met one?"

Cthu frowns. "I haven't had the chance."

"Uh-huh. When was the last time anyone from your family met a human?" Claire asks, because really.

"That we didn't eat?"

"That you didn't eat."

He thinks. "Before my mother's birth."

"Then its not their fault for not remembering your kind. Look at vampires and werewolves, no ones going to forget them," Claire points out reasonably.

Cthu makes a face. "I've read Twilight. No thank you for being remembered that way."

Claire laughs. "Hey, do you want meet Death?"

He blinks, which looks really freaky, but nods. "I'd be honored."

Claire grabs Cerberus leash and Cthu's hand. "Come on then. If we're lucky he'll get pizza and let us talk to one of the Reapers."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations and downtime for Dean and Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part contains sex.

Dean's laying on his stomach reading when Cas pops into the room. Sam and Gabriel have their own room, what with Jesse and all, plus they'd taken the kid to the movies for the evening. So Dean's indulging in a little recreational reading he really shouldn't be wasting time on.

"Any luck?" Dean asks, glancing up from the book.

Cas just stands there a moment with his shoulders slumped and eyes dim.

"Cas?" Dean moves to get up. He doesn't get the chance.

Cas moves with speed Dean didn't think he still had, and with a firm hand presses Dean back against the bed. "Yes and no," Cas tells him with no explanation of the weird behavior.

Dean decides to roll with it and relaxes back into the bed. He folds the corner of the page he was on and sets the book aside. "That's vague."

"I have been searching for Claire as well as my Father," Cas explains, knuckles stroking the curve of Dean's back.

"Okay," Dean says, waiting for more. He's not sure he's going to like it with the way Cas is stalling.

Cas sighs, just a small exhale, but Dean knows Cas. The angel might become more and more human but he still doesn't need to breath, not like Dean does. "I found Claire."

Dean frowns. "That's a good thing though. Is she safe? Do we need to go get her?" Because dammit they owe it to Jimmy to keep his little girl safe.

"No," Cas says. "It is not a good thing. As for her safety, I believe she is to a point."

It's vague and sort of pisses Dean off. He clenches his jaw and starts to move but Cas keeps him in place. "Where is she Cas? Did Crowley adopt her or something?"

"That might be preferable. She is with Lucifer," Cas tells him.

Dean tries to surge up again. "She's _what_!?"

"Dean! You do not understand," Cas says almost desperately. "Claire is not entirely human anymore. It is my fault. I would fix it if I had the power."

"You aren't making sense and let me up," Dean demands. "Are you saying she's a demon?" The thought makes him sick.

Cas makes a sound almost like a growl. "No. She has wings, Dean. From the little I saw Lucifer is treating her as if she's a fledgling. So for at least now, she is safe in his care."

Dean slumps back against the bed. "You think when you were..." Dean searches for a way to say it that doesn't sound perverted, "possessing her, you did something?" Okay, not the best word choice either.

"I do not know. Gabriel might. I went to speak with him but I am loathe to interrupt his time with Sam and Jesse," Cas says softly, finally moving his hand.

Dean rolls on his back and stares up at Cas. The angel looks defeated, tired. Dean reaches up and tugs him down. "Hey. I don't think angel is catching."

Cas lets himself be pulled into Dean arms, his face tucked into the curve of Dean's shoulder. "All vessel lines originate from Nephilim. It is possible that..."

"That it has nothing to do with you. We'll get her back from him, Cas," Dean promises. "Who knows what he's got planned for her." He strokes his hand over the back of Cas' neck.

Cas nods slightly, then seems content just to rest there. Dean keeps stroking his neck, until Cas answers it with a nuzzle to Dean's throat.

"I missed you," Dean tells him softly.

"It was only a day," Cas protests just as softly.

Dean hums and nuzzles his way to Cas' mouth for a kiss. "Gabriel makes everything seem longer," Dean says, half teasing half serious.

Cas gives Dean an unreadable look. "Please don't mention my brother while we're in bed."

Dean laughs and kisses Cas again. "Get out of that coat and its a deal."

Cas laugh is a puff of hair against Dean's lips but he sits up, straddling Dean's hips and strips himself of the trench coat. The suit jacket follows, then the white shirt that Dean can't imagine being anything but rumpled. Dean palms Cas' hips and watches the show. Cas doesn't tease but even his efficient motions are a turn on to Dean. The little reminders that Cas _isn't_ human make his blood heat up like nothing else.

Dean fingers join Cas' on the buttons of his slacks. He's greedy and burrows his fingers into Cas' underwear. Curling his fingers around Cas' half hard cock, he pulls it free from the clothing so he can stroke it properly. And fuck does Cas look perfect like this. Straddling Dean, pants open and cock out. Gay porn needed more scenes like this.

"Dean," Cas groans rocking into Dean's grip.

"Yeah, baby?" Dean asks, already knowing Cas isn't going to last long. The last week or so if they've been apart for more than a day Cas is eager and quick to go off like it been weeks. It's flattering as hell.

Cas leans over Dean, placing his hands on either side of Dean's head. He rocks into the motion, watching Dean with wide blue eyes. "You do not play fair."

"Nope," Dean admits, adding a little twist of his wrist in. "After you come, I'm going to fuck you."

Cas groans louder and ducks his head to ruin Dean's mouth. It's the only way to describe it. It's not just kissing the way Cas possesses his mouth, leaves it red and swollen. Dean always gives as good as he gets, but he rarely manages the same effect on his angel.

"I wanted to fuck you," Cas complains, but he doesn't stop pushing himself into the circle of Dean's hand.

Dean moans this time. "I'm all for that," he promises. "Open myself up while you watch. You're going to watch, aren't you? I'll slick up my fingers, make sure I'm nice and loose for you."

Cas' hands clench in the bed spread and he makes a sound that rattles the windows.

"That's it," Dean praises.

Cas thrusts forward one last time then climaxes with a grunt, biting his lip to keep any other sound in. More glass and light bulbs stay intact that way.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas as the angel slumps down onto his chest.


End file.
